Nutter
by drink-tea-and-carry-on
Summary: Just because they can't see him, it doesn't mean that he doesn't exist.  Everyone thinks Arthur is crazy. But he's not. He knows he's not. He knows that Gilbert is real.  PrUK, rated for swearing, eventual sex, violence and lots of other strange stuff.
1. Chapter 1

It was the middle of august, the night was exceedingly hot, and Arthur Kirkland could not sleep. The window was wide open but the sweaty breeze that drifted in did not give him any relief, in fact, only aggravating him further as it toyed with him, suggesting the cooler air that would release him from this torment, only to give him the warm waft that reminded him wholly of something more unpleasant.

He tossed and turned as he lay awake. Arthur had always been a light sleeper, the slightest sound or movement waking him. He didn't like the heat either, it made him sweat and it reminded him of the times he used to fall into fever when he was even littler than he was now. His mother said that he was a sensitive boy, more so than his brothers. Unlike him, each had the essence of health in them. They were her robust, romping little men, Arthur was her sweet, sensitive little _boy,_ but he didn't really mind, because it meant that she loved him.

He flung his sheets off his sweaty legs and wiggled his damp toes before getting up. Arthur went to the bathroom and twisted the cold tap on tiptoes, struggling to reach, but finally managed and the freezing water came gushing out in a powerful stream, and immediately, he thrust his clammy hands and sighed as the water instantly cooled him and he left them in there until the tips of his fingers began to go numb. Arthur trailed his deadened fingers down his hot cheeks, leaving tiny wet marks on his face. But the relief that came with the water quickly dried up and Arthur's eyes snapped open and he sighed again, though this time in remorse. But then his eyes lit up and he went back to his room and took the empty hot water bottle that was buried in his wardrobe with his winter clothes, strewing thick woollen jumpers all over the floor in the process. He went back to the bathroom and filled it up with the icy water and carried the now heavy sack back to his bed, flopping onto it and laying it over his chest. He smiled softly and shifted it, over his stomach, feet, his boiling forehead. But, though Arthur was certainly more relaxed, now comfortably cool instead of unbearably hot, he was still restless, fidgeting with the parker pen that he kept on his bedside table. He twisted it in his fingers before settling it back down, exhaling softly and getting up. Arthur walked slowly down the stairs, bare feet hardly making a sound as they hit the cool wooden floorboards. He did not turn on the light. He stepped into the kitchen, taking a cup and getting himself a drink of water from the tap. He had to stand on a chair because he was small. None of Arthur's brothers needed to stand on a chair to reach the tap. Arthur's brothers said that he was too short, and girly. Sometimes, when their mother and father were out of earshot, Conner and Douglas would say that he was gay. Arthur didn't know what that meant. When he asked Rhys though, what it meant, he looked uncomfortable and said that he didn't know but Arthur could tell that he did, so he assumed it was a bad thing that Rhys didn't want to tell him about. When Conner or Douglas would call him that, he would shout or hit them, and they would hit him back but he never told Mother, because she was delicate and didn't like it when her babies fought. Father didn't know either because Arthur didn't want Father to get into a temper because Mother didn't like that, and that might make her sicker.

There was the sudden sound of footsteps that pulled Arthur out of his thoughts and he jumped, nearly dropping the plastic cup in his hand. He didn't, but a tiny bit of water managed to slosh out and dripped onto his naked toes. He placed it down and tensed up, moving just to the side of the door where others couldn't see him, but there was a chuckle and apparently, he had already been spotted.

"Come out, Arthur, I know you're there. Don't worry, I'm not mad." His father's voice came rolling out, deep but soft like a wave.

Arthur crept out from behind the door and stood awkwardly in the hallway, arms hanging useless at his sides.

"It's hot. I can't sleep." He declared, as if to justify his actions.

"Neither can I." His father replied. "I'm like you, I can't bear the heat. Your mother was always one for the sunny beach holidays though." He looked a little sad but shook it off and smiled down at his son."Why don't we go outside? It may be hot, but it's cooler out there than in here."

Arthur nodded and smiled, eyes lighting up. He didn't get much time with his father. Conner and Douglas idolised him, while Rhys usually kept to himself, and when he wasn't busy, the two older brothers would constantly hang around him.

His father took his hand and Arthur walked outside, barefoot, taking care not to step on any fallen twigs or thorns. The man sat down in the garden chair, helping Arthur into his lap. The little boy curled against his chest and he smiled, stroking his son's unruly hair, a feature that he had inherited from him. But unlike his two eldest sons, neither Rhys nor Arthur had inherited his flaming hair. Arthur had hair like his mother and Rhys had reddish brown hair like his grandfather did when he was young. Thomas looked at his youngest son and felt a pang at his chest. Despite his messy hair and thick eyebrows, Arthur definitely took after his mother, inheriting her wide green eyes that were so full of life and the light dusting of freckles that only came out in the summer sun. He had her face too and her personality when she had been healthier. Arthur reminded him so much of the woman he had fallen in love with that it hurt.

Arthur squeezed his knee and looked up, turning to point a small hand at something in the garden that Thomas looked after.

"What is that?" He asked, looking up to his father with sparkling eyes.

When Thomas squinted a little harder, he saw a faint green glow, deep in the bushes a few metres away. Glow worms. He smiled and told his son what his own father had told him all those years ago.

"They're newborn faeries, son." He said softly, smiling secretly as Arthur bolted upright and excitement filled his green eyes.

"Really?"

"Yep." Thomas said, restraining the urge to chuckle.

"They're so pretty! Can I touch one?" Arthur asked, trying to slide out of his father's lap and onto the ground but Thomas held him tight.

"I'm afraid not, Arthur. Faeries don't like it when people come near them." Thomas said seriously, staring deep into Arthur's eyes. "They might just put a curse on you if you come too close!" He grinned and flicked his son gently on the nose, dispelling the disappointed look from his little face and making him giggle wildly. Thomas tickled Arthur's tummy, causing his unrestrained giggles to break into full out laughter and if it hadn't been for the thick walls that separated the garden from the inside of the building, Arthur probably would've woken the whole house with his laughter. Arthur looked up at his father with adoring eyes and Thomas grinned until suddenly his stomach clenched. Arthur's vibrant eyes were replaced by hollow green orbs and Thomas's grip around his son tightened.

"...Dad? Are you ok?" There was no answer. His father's blue eyes were blind to everyone and everything but what he saw in his own head. "Dad, you're scaring me!" Arthur said, feeling tears well up in his own green eyes, tugging his father's collar.

"_You're scaring me!_" Thomas fell back to reality at the sound of Arthur's fearful voice and his eyes darted to his son's, distraught to find the dreaded water pooling in the creases of Arthur's wide orbs.

He wrapped his arms around his son who did the same back.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean to scare you." Thomas said as the boy nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry. I love you Arthur."

"Love you too." Came Arthur's muffled reply, head still buried in his father's shoulder.

Thomas lifted his son's head, smiling softly and rubbing his thumb tenderly over Arthur's cheek before kissing his forehead. The little boy yawned and leant against his father's shoulder and Thomas stroked his back and hair. Soon, Arthur was asleep, breathing softly against Thomas's shirt. The man sighed and picked him up as gently as he could, carrying the boy back to his bed and once again, kissed his forehead.

"Goodnight Arthur." He whispered. "Sleep well."

**Author's note:** Well, here's another story started. God, I've already got two multi chapter stories to update and I've got ideas for more. How am I ever going to write them all? Oh well.

Anyway, did you like it? This chapter was quite fluffy except for the pinch of angsty background story added. But this story will be getting a lot err... angsty-er. By the way, this WILL be a PrUK story though I doubt that Gilbert will appear in the first few chapters :( So sorry, Prussia fans, you're going to have to wait a while. Oh yeah, Rhys is Wales, Conner is Ireland and Douglas is Scotland. Douglas is the oldest, then Conner, then Rhys and Arthur is the baby :3 He is about six or seven in this chapter. Thomas is their father but their mother doesn't have a name yet.

Moving swiftly onwards, thanks to anyone who reads, reviews or favourites this story and if you like PrUK or USUK, be sure to take a look at my other two stories.

Arthur Kirkland belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

It was two years later, a pouring autumn night, the air clear and thick with the dampness of rain. Arthur's birthday had come and gone, twice, resulting in a nine year old, only slightly taller little boy, with a fondness for football, gardening, tea and embroidery. He knew now what the word 'gay' meant, knowing that his some of his hobbies, particularly his love for sewing and roses, reinforced his brother's belief that he was just that. They still called him that word, but now he just hit them even harder and shouted things at them, like he did when he was little. But he knew all the swear words now, so it was even better.

Arthur sat back into his seat, arms folded tightly over his thin chest and dark brows furrowed more than the average nine year olds' should be. He shuffled before fiddling with his seatbelt and he reached over to click it out.

"Arthur."

He scowled as his aunt's piercing gaze bit into his forehead and his arms returned to his lap. He played with the windows, watching with bored green eyes as the window came up and down with a mechanical whir, cold wind and rain rushing in to whip back his choppy hair and sting his eyes when they lowered before being sucked out when they shut back up.

"Arthur! Stop it!"

Arthur sighed and glared at the side of Aunt Sophie's face. The middle-aged woman was hunched over the steering wheel, muscles tight and tense as she sped down the narrow country lanes. She wasn't a good driver. He returned his eyes to the road ahead of them. Rain poured down in a torrential wave, the windscreen wipers of the little car furiously working to keep the sheet of water from blinding them completely.

Suddenly the rain lightened as trees grew up and around to form a leafy tunnel, shielding the car from the harsh weather that was still raging above the treetops. The headlights shone, penetrating through the dark when they turned a corner.

There was only a second before the dark figure hit the car with a sickening thud and flew up and over the bonnet. Arthur screamed.

He didn't really know what happened after that. The car screeched to a halt, skidding slightly on the wet road and all Arthur could do was scream and cry and the others didn't know what to do. He didn't register his Aunt shaking his shoulders as he shivered nor did he notice when Douglas told him nervously to shut it before saying, "Arthur, Arthur?" and falling silent but watching with concerned blue eyes. Conner tapped him on the top of his head and even Rhys looked up from his book before snapping it shut and leaning forward to stare at his little brother.

Sobs died down into hitched breathing and he looked up into his Aunt's eyes, and then back into his brothers'. All sets were brimming with worry and fear, confusion, but all were directed at him and nothing else. Arthur closed his eyes for a few seconds and he could see it again and he felt like vomiting. They asked him if he was alright and he didn't answer, but he wasn't, not alright. His lids cracked open before he looked away, drawing his knees up to his chest and leaning against the car door, and he stared out of the window until his aunt gave up trying to stir him and continued driving down the road.

The three eldest Kirkland brothers excused themselves from the table, thanking their aunt for the lovely supper and leaving Arthur alone with her, still swirling his cottage pie around the plate, watching as the brown mess slowly swallowed the peas on the side of his dish whole, coating each small green mass in the thick glop. Sophie put down her fork, the utensil sliding slightly into her bowl with a sharp scrape and began.

"Arthur, why aren't you eating?"

"I don't feel well."

The only thing that broke the short silence that followed was the accidental screech and clink that sounded as Arthur also dropped his fork onto his plate, putting his hands into his lap and looking down, and the distant sound of Conner's laughter as upstairs, as Douglas tackled an annoyed Rhys to the floor.

"Do you want juice? A biscuit?" Sophie asked, trying to coax her nephew's mouth into a happier state.

"No thank you." He replied, smile still gone from his lips.

"Arthur, you should have something."

Then nine year old swallowed briefly and looked up. "Um, tea would be nice, if you have any. Milk, two sugars."

Sophie's lips twitched upwards as she went to boil the kettle, preparing the base for the drink usually reserved for adults. It came strangely out of the young boy's mouth, but then again, he had always been the odd one out.

She still had no idea what had happened as she had been driving. Arthur still hadn't talked about the incident that had occurred over an hour and a half ago, but nor had he smiled.

As she stirred the teabag around the mug, she looked back at him. Arthur was seemingly lost in thought, that tiny troubled look that was so common on his young face there again. It was too old an expression for such a little person. Eventually, the tea was ready and she placed it on the table, smiling warmly but only receiving a muttered 'thank you' in return.

The boy sipped it warily as he lifted the steaming mug in his small hands, grimaced slightly, which Sophie didn't notice, but continued drinking anyway, happy for the extra heat that quickly flushed his face and spread with the blood in his body. It wasn't a very good brew; quite disgusting, in fact. He could make a better cuppa himself, and his aunt had had years of practise. But still, nothing could defeat a mug from his mother, who could brew the finest tea that he had ever tasted. But for now, Aunt Sophie's less than mediocre tea was good enough. He sipped loudly, gulping the drink with much gusto. Usually, he would've scolded himself for his terrible manners, but Arthur could tell that his aunt didn't want to interrupt this rather spectacular slurping display, going slightly pink with annoyance, something that his father shared with his sister, and she looked away. When he was finished, Arthur got up quickly, thanked her for the 'delicious' tea and ran upstairs as fast as he could, pretending not to hear her worried calls. The scruffy haired boy bit his lip at causing her distress, but he couldn't deal with her right now.

Arthur ran past his brothers, who were all sitting doing various things in the playroom (Rhys would be reading still, Conner would probably be playing video games on the small television and Douglas would be chatting to his friends on facebook, while playing absentmindedly with the half deflated football at his feet), and went straight into his bedroom, reaching quickly for his zipped-up suitcase, opening it and pulling out a worn-out hare, whose button eyes had been sewn back on too many times to count and whose left ear was slightly mangled, clutching it to his chest before he crawled into bed, fully clothed.

The sheets smelt musty, having been empty for a while, and when Arthur ran his hands down them, he thought he could feel little bits sticking to his fingers. He laid face down, breathing in the scent of the pillow and stiffening as the light outside switched on, the bright golden light leaking under and through the cracks in the door and gathering in a yellow pool on the far side and floor of the room, casting misshapen shadows everywhere. Arthur heard his aunt's voice; telling the other children wearily to go to bed before walking outside Arthur's room and chinking the door open slightly, peeking in. Arthur's eyes snapped shut, squeezing tightly and he tried to look as asleep as possible. She sighed and when Arthur was sure that Aunt Sophie had left, he opened the green orbs again, blinking and sitting up. He hopped out of bed, bare feet tiptoeing across the squeaking old floorboards to the window, where he pressed his hand against it. The rain was light now, pattering down against the pane like the sound of soft bullets, and the air was even colder, the glass fogging up when he breathed on it.

When he knew that his aunt and his brothers were asleep, Arthur quickly slipped his trainers on, not bothering to wear any socks, and slowly crept out of the room, softly stepping down the creaky stairs and making his way into the kitchen. He went to the back door, twisting the doorknob before swearing viscously for someone of his age and rummaging through the drawers, looking for the old fashioned key that would be his way to freedom. When he couldn't find it, he scowled; looking around and finally Arthur spotted it, hanging of a hook at the top of the slightly open cupboard. Arthur climbed atop of the counter, careful not to knock anything with his knees and opened it more, moving his head out of the way as the cupboard doors sung open. He reached up and grabbed the key before jumping down with a quiet thump, landing on his feet after much practise of jumping out of tree branches. He scampered to the door, shoving the key into its hole and twisting sharply, wiggling slightly until it opened with a stiff click. Quickly, he grabbed his waterproof before running out the door, into the mud and rain.

It didn't take long to get back to the road, where it had happened. About ten minutes of walking, it wasn't too far. Arthur shivered as the wind blew into his eyes, rustling through the flame coloured leaves that were still on the trees, some falling and twirling to the ground around him. Arthur walked to the side of the road, careful to watch for any dimpled lines of rain blocked headlights. The moon barely shone through the thickness of the treetops, only patterning the ground with a few silvery leopard spots. Arthur looked up from his feet, and then he saw it.

A black figure, lying motionless on the floor in the middle of the road.

Arthur ran up to it, breath catching in that small hollow in the back of his throat, and knelt down, ignoring the way that his jeans soaked up the cold water on the ground and froze his knees. The lump was black clad, with a tuft of silver spikes sticking out at one end, and a bare of small bare feet out at the other. A bright yellow bird sat right in the middle of it, splitting the dark cloth like a star in the night sky, and chirped when it saw Arthur, flapping its wings slightly.

_It's dead._ Arthur thought. _Aunt Sophie killed it._ The thought made him feel gross, a thick shiver running up his spine as he acknowledged that he was right next to something that was _dead_ and probably beginning to rot in front of his eyes.

But then it moved.

At first, Arthur wondered how dead things moved and maybe it was just the wind but then it moved again, twitching silently. Arthur crawled closer, poking it. There was a slight groan and Arthur spun it round, flipping the thing over, but luckily not crushing the bird. An unnaturally pale face showed, framed by barbed silver locks, eyes closed. It was a boy, a boy about Arthur's age and he was breathing. There was a huge lump in the middle of his forehead, as well as a bruise on his left cheek but other than that and his unconsciousness, he seemed fine. He wore a black cloak with a hood, and underneath that, he was wearing a sodden white shirt, and dark brown trousers, tucked into long black leather boots that were completely clean, despite the mud that surrounded the area.

Arthur knew he had to help him. After all, it was _his _aunt that had run him over. The boy was slightly larger than him and Arthur sighed, knowing that it was going to be difficult to carry him back to the house. But he picked him up anyway, slinging him over his shoulder with a small gasp and beginning to trudge back. The small bird that had fallen of the boy when Arthur picked him up tweeted and flew onto Arthur's shoulder. Arthur groaned in discomfort. The boy was heavy and his sharp chin was shutting right into his shoulder. But he carried on.

Already an hour and a half had passed and Arthur was beginning to lose hope that the boy would ever wake up. He bit his lip and waited, sitting on the side of the bed because the boy was in it. Suddenly, he felt something stir. There was a moan and when Arthur looked back at the silver haired boy, his eyes were open, alert and Arthur felt something in him bubble as they locked onto his, blazing with hostility. But it wasn't that that shocked him. It was the fact that they were blood red which made him freeze. The boy suddenly sat up, so close to Arthur that their noses were almost touching. If it had not been for the fact that he had a fistful of his hair holding him in one hand, a worryingly sharp knife being held at his throat in the other, he would've jumped back.

"W-what are you doing?" Arthur burst out, eyes widening fearfully as the grip tightened painfully on his hair and was yanked back even more, exposing the long stretch of his pale skin on his throat to the keen blade, glinting dangerously in the moonlight which streamed through the window.

"Don't shout." Those words sounded so strange coming out of the mouth of a boy who was the same age as him. "Or I'll cut your throat."

Arthur's eyes darted to the devilish red ones, boring into them with terror. They held his gaze, calm, ruthless. Arthur gulped, and the knife twitched towards his neck. Eyes ready to kill.

"Who are you?" The mysterious boy asked, demanded, pressing the dagger closer to Arthur's throat. Arthur's eyes grew impossibly wide. "How did I get here? Are you of the Unseelie Court? Are you a spy or an assassin sent by Nerys? Where am I?"

Arthur opened his mouth, stunned by the bombardment of questions,

"Answer me!"

"I-I'm Arthur! Uh, Arthur Kirkland. And d-don't go waving daggers around, you dolt, y-you might cut someone!"

"Shut up! Answer the question!" The boy growled, voice growing louder and angrier as he thrust the knife even closer and nicked the skin of Arthur's throat, the hand clenching painfully around Arthur's hair.

"Please, I don't have a clue what you're talking about. I-I just brought you here after my aunt's car hit you and you got knocked out!"

The boy searched Arthur's green eyes, narrowing them slightly but he didn't lower the knife. Something flickered in them.

"A car?"

"Y-yeh, we were driving along and you just appeared out of nowhere but my aunt and my brothers didn't seem to see you..."

The boy's eyes temporarily expanded in surprise before he made a jab at Arthur's neck causing the shorter boy to flinch.

"Show me your ears, and don't try anything, or I'll kill you before you can say 'awesome'."

Arthur frowned slightly at the odd request but did as he was told, turning his head slowly as his hair was released and lifting up the straw-blonde locks to reveal his ears. The boy let out a loud breath before sucking it in again and lowered the knife slowly.

"Y-you're human?" Now it was him who was sounding nervous, and his eyes practically fell out of his head. "Crap, crap, crap, Dad is going to _kill_ me..."

"Human!" Arthur exploded, rage taking over him as his fear subsided. The menacing look in the other boy's eyes had drained away. "Of course I'm bloody human, what else would I be, you berk?"

"B-but you can see me!" The boy stammered, backing slightly away from Arthur.

Arthur blinked before his brows furrowed. "Why wouldn't I be able to..." Arthur trailed off as he noticed the now shivering boy's ears.

Pointed.

"Oh my GOD!" Arthur cried, scrambling backwards and falling off the edge of the bed. He picked himself up and directed a shaky finger at the boy. "You're-you're ears are...they're _pointy!_"

"Well yours are round!" The boy shrieked, voice breaking very slightly at the end of the sentence. The bird, which had followed Arthur back, twittered, as if to agree before settling on the boy's shoulder.

"Who and what are you?" Arthur blurted out.

It was the boy's turn to frown, and he did so, gesturing to his unnaturally shaped ears.

"What the hell do you think I am? I'm an elf, dummkopf _idiot_."

"But elves and fairies don't exist! They're not real!"

The boy scoffed and folded his arms, finally sliding his dagger back into the sheaf under his cloak.

"Course we're real, just humans don't usually see us. Except you." The elf cocked his head and stared. Arthur wriggled slightly, uncomfortable under his red gaze and turned away slightly, before chuckling.

"I can't believe that there is an elf – an elf! – in my bedroom right now." He exclaimed, waving his hands slightly frantically. "An elf, of all things!"

"Man, get over it. It's not very awesome." The elf complained before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and setting his bare feet on the ground. He leaved himself up in one big motion before gasping and collapsing back onto the bed. " Verdammt _Damn_..." He lifted up his now dry shirt, and Arthur's eyes widened as he saw that the whole left side of the elf's pale body was practically a giant bruise. "Ow..." he winced, poking himself tenderly in the stomach.

"That looks painful."

The boy-elf looked at Arthur. "You say that... a car... did this to me? Is that some kind of weapon?"

"Don't you have cars...?" Arthur saw the blank look on his face and shook his head before continuing. "Um, no, cars aren't weapons. We use them to get around."

"Like a horse?"

"Yeh, I suppose. Except they're not alive, they're made of metal and they can carry more than one person at a time. Say, being hit by a car it a bit like...being stepped on by a horse, but worse. I don't think you're going to be able to move for a while."

The elf winced again and furrowed his brows, but did not say anything.

"What were you doing wandering about the roads at that time of night, anyway?"

"I was on an awesome mission." The elf said darkly and said nothing more.

Arthur fiddled with his fingers. He thought he would have more to say if he ever met an elf. The elf was now stroking the bird's head, the little yellow thing resting on his finger.

"What's it called?" Arthur asked.

"Sir Gilbird the Awesome, Gilbird for short." The elf replied, grinning. "After me, of course! I'm Gilbert the Awesome!"

"I'm Arthur. Just Arthur." The little blonde extended a hand, but it remained hanging as the elf, Gilbert, looked at it suspiciously.

"What am I meant to do with it?"

"A handshake." Arthur said, surprised. "Don't you have handshakes?"

"..."

"Uh, basically, a handshake is greeting when two people first meet they grasp each other's hands and shake it up and down, like this." He explained, demonstrating.

The elf shook tentatively at first, before doing so eagerly, the motions over exaggerated.

"You have weird greetings. Where I come from, we do this." And he gave a very slight nod of the head with a hand on his chest. Suddenly, Gilbert poked Arthur's eyebrows. "Do all humans have eyebrows this big, or is it just you?"

The boy spluttered and pulled back, rubbing his forehead tenderly. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with my eyebrows!"

"Oh, so it's just you. Ow! Why'd you do that?"

Arthur stormed off, huffing loudly to the other side of the room, before returning to the bed and yanking a pillow from under the elf, earning a yelp and a glare. He threw it on the ground, and lay down.

"Wow, you don't smile much do you?"

"Shut up!"

Maybe in the morning, all this would be over.

**Author's note:** So there's the second chapter! Sorry for the huge delay, but Prussia the Awesome was introduced, so hopefully that makes up for it!

So what did you think? Good, bad, better, worse than the last chapter? A bit boring? I thought it was a bit boring. Review, people, I love them! Talking of reviews, thanks for all the lovely ones from Skadiyoko, amaya-nights rain, Wicked Winter, Red Hot Holly Berries and frozenpixie! And of course, thanks to anyone who favourite this story!

Wicked Winter. Well, I hope I can convert you to PrUK-ism XD

Red Hot Holly Berries. Ah, well, from the chapter above, I think you can tell that Arthur has the Sight. Also, a glow worm is 'the common name for various groups of insect larvae and adult larviform females that glow through bioluminescence' (Yay for Wikipedia!). In the previous chapter, I was referring to the flightless female fireflies, which are often called glow worms. I'm glad you find lil' Arthur cute :3

Arthur Kirkland, Gilbert Beilschmidt and Gilbird all belond to Himaruya Hidekaz.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Arthur shielded his face and screwed up his eyes as the sun filtered through the window, the clean morning light catching the light of numerous dust particles in the air, which shimmered in and out of existence. Soft drizzle pattered on the world outside, plastering fallen leaves to the back lawn, a flaming carpet. The sun lit the grey clouds with a blazing mercury lining and they dragged across the sky, glimpses of crisp blue occasionally appearing only to be swallowed up again.

There was a pained groan from the other side of the room, a rustling sound and a crumpled heap of blankets shifted, a few silver locks quickly disappearing under the sheets. A yellow ball lay stark against the blue blankets and it stirred, giving a disgruntled chirp before flying lazily around the room and settling on the windowsill.

"Gilbert." Arthur said. He walked over to his bed. "Wake up." He poked the large still mass and it moved again. Arthur waited for a little while before continuing. "I'm going to get us some breakfast. I'll be right back."

Arthur walked downstairs, giving a tiny shiver as his bare feet touched the cold kitchen floor. He quickly replaced the stolen key, before grabbing some bread and popping it into the toaster. Upon returning to his bedroom, Arthur found Gilbert sitting cross legged on his bed, alert and completely awake and surrounded by Arthur's various possessions, including his hare, the Nintendo DS, an umbrella and a half-empty water pistol. Not noticing the other boy's entry, Gilbert picked up the umbrella, inspected it and nearly fell off the bed in surprise when it popped open.

Arthur sat down on the bed beside him, offered the elf a piece of toast before explaining the umbrella and its function. Gilbert took one of the burnt black slabs and started munching the deadly looking thing, eyes trained on the umbrella. He was halfway through explaining the water pistol when an impish look overcame Gilbert's pale face. The elf laughed manically as a wet and sputtering Arthur began to choke him viciously until the door suddenly slammed open.

"Arthur!" His aunt said loudly, brow furrowed. "Why are you all wet?"

Arthur stared at his aunt for a while, frozen in place before he feebly waved the orange water pistol.

"Uh, it exploded."

"Get yourself dry before you catch a cold. And clean up in here, it's a mess!" She ordered grumpily before she left the room.

Arthur glanced nervously to Gilbert, his hands released from the other's pale neck.

"She didn't see you?"

The elf scoffed and turned slightly. "Course not. Humans don't usually see us. It's just you."

Arthur's eyes widened before he looked away. Gilbird landed on the human boy's shoulder and pecked his jaw softly.

"Weird. He doesn't usually like other people, except for me." Gilbert said, frowning slightly.

Arthur didn't reply and stared out the window.

Another day passed, but when Arthur woke up in the morning, Gilbert was gone as was his yellow pet, and the window was open, a large puddle of rainwater spreading on the floor.

On another weekend, a sunny spring day over five months later, Arthur was tramping through the woods at the end of Aunt Sophie's garden. Clean sunlight strained through the leaves and lit up their skeletal forms, golden light dabbling the forest floor. Birds sang softly among the treetops. The peace was only slightly interrupted by the distant calls of his family. Arthur walked further into the woods, taking care to crush the struggling green shoots that were pushing up from beneath a layer of fallen leaves. But Arthur's pace quickened as he began to hear footsteps, larger feet smashing their way through the tiny plants. He began to run, kicking up crisped leaves as he did so. Soon he was in a full sprint, jumping over endless roots and fallen logs in order to escape the impatient roars of his eldest brother. He was a quick runner; his brother's calls were left behind but by the time they were the treetops had grown thicker and the air mustier, heavy with something that made Arthur's skin tingle.

He was lost.

Arthur had no idea where he was, and he could no longer hear Douglas' calls. He cursed himself for being impulsive and tried to retrace his footsteps, but he only succeeded in getting himself even further into darkness. There was silence for a while.

"…Hello?" Arthur said warily, even though he knew no one could hear him.

He heard a noise, and looked around him, heat rising. He was beginning to get panicked. What if he got lost, or no one could find him, what if he never found his way out and died, or worse, what if he survived but went completely crazy just like-

"Arthur?" The boy span in fright. "Up here, brows."

Arthur glanced upwards, and the strain was released from his shoulders. Gilbert was sitting on a branch high up, his red eyes glowing slightly in the darkness. Sure enough, Gilbird sat on his shoulder, yellow feathers glimmering slightly, and the bird get a chirped greeting.

"G-Gilbert!" The surprise on Arthur's face was obvious, before it turned to an expression of anger.

Gilbert jumped down from the branch, landing elegantly on his feet despite the height, and walked towards Arthur. The blonde boy frowned and slapped the elf's head, hard.

"Idiot!" Arthur cried. "You just disappeared! I thought that I had gone crazy!" Arthur's voice wavered slightly and stood fuming silently.

Gilbert twitched oddly and bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

"If I'm such an idiot I'll just leave then." He said hotly, beginning to stalk away, back into darkness.

"Wha-Wait! Gilbert!"

But the other boy had already gone. Arthur stood still, abandoned and lost. He could feel his eyes getting hotter and slightly wet, and he sniffed angrily, hating himself for it. The green-eyed boy sat, defeated, sunken against a tree trunk and wiped his eyes to stop them spilling over. There was a painful lump at the back of his throat that he struggling to push back.

Suddenly, there was a rustle and Arthur froze, straining for another sound, but there was nothing. At that bleak moment, the nine year old burst into tears, and buried his face in his arms, knees drawn up to his chest. He didn't hear the footsteps behind him, caught up in his own little world, until two hands grasped his shoulders. He jumped up, screaming piercingly. There was a scratchy laugh, and Arthur stopped, fear instantly evaporating, replaced only by embarrassment and irritation. He wiped his eyes furiously and turned away from the laughing elf.

"Oh, man, you're face!" He howled with laughter which only died down a few minutes later. "That was _so_ funny…you should've seen your face Artie! Artie?" The smile on Gilbert's face died down. "Arthur? You ok?"

When Arthur didn't answer, folding his arms uncomfortably on his chest, Gilbert's eyes widened in concern. "Hey, hey! I wasn't really gonna leave you there like that! That would _not_ be awesome, after you helped me before! Arthur…"

Gilbert grabbed the silent boy's hand and started dragging him along and further into the forest. Arthur tugged at his hand, but the elf refused to let go.

"Gilbert-!"

"Shut up and come with me." The elf replied. "I'm not meant to show you this, but you can see us, so you can't be that bad, right? Besides, no one will ever know." Gilbert asked no one in particular. Eventually, they came to a trickling stream, littered with smoothly shining stepping stones, glistening like molten silver. Gilbert let go of Arthur's hand and hopped across and flashed a quick grin.

"Come on then. Just make sure to hold your breath on the way over."

Arthur hesitated, but only for a moment. A prevailing longing welled in his chest and he felt a rush of power thrill through his bones as he took his first step across the stream, combined with such a sense of dread that it was almost painful. He didn't understand it, he was only nine, so he didn't mention it.

As soon as Arthur set foot on the opposite bank, something familiar surged through his body. He looked up and the sky was black, studded with stars.

"It's night." He said in slight surprise, before looking around. "Where are we?"

"The Faery Realm. Humans don't normally come here, but again, you're different."

Arthur looked around. The blackness swallowed any corners, giving the world he had entered a more rounded look, and the tree trunks that now surrounded him were thick and aged, gnarled in twisted patterns that seemed to flow slowly before his eyes. They swayed gently before his eyes, and Arthur stared in awe. Occasional bluish lights zipped and flickered in and out of his vision.

"What are those?" Arthur asked. "The blue lights?"

"Pixies." Gilbert replied. "I wouldn't get too close if I were you. Come on, don't get lost."

The elf started moving quickly forward, and Arthur followed, making sure to keep his eye on Gilbert's moonlit head. After a few minutes, Gilbert stopped and so did the boy behind him. Arthur peeked over Gilbert's shoulder. The clearing was flooded with liquid light, golden-red illuminating the two children's faces. In the centre stood a regal bird, its feathers golden and orange, fiery hues that rippled and glowed slightly upwards as if flames. It turned, glanced at the boys with a sort of intelligent disdain and spread its wings with flourish, and flew away, only leaving a single tail feather behind. The single long feather fluttered to the ground where it lay, glowing like forgotten embers but its light alone was enough to fill the clearing with a pale gold hue.

"What was that?" Arthur asked. His eyes were trained on the disappearing form of the bird above.

"I suppose you'd call it a phoenix, or something similar." Gilbert replied. He got up and retrieved the feather, and held it out to Arthur. "Present." He smiled lopsidedly, before blowing gently over the feather, its plumes lighting up and flickering like flames as he did so.

Arthur took it, the fragile object heating his hands slightly as he held it delicately.

"Thanks." He said quietly.

Arthur turned quickly and began to fiddle with his watch strap.

"What're you doing?" Gilbert queried. The elf obviously hadn't seen anything like it before. "What is it?"  
"It's a watch. It tells the time, though I suppose it's a bit inaccurate here. You'll have to adjust it."

Arthur yanked it off and glanced at it for a second. He had gotten it for his birthday a year ago, and it was a nice enough object but he never found any use for it and it only made his wrist sweaty. He wiped a thumb over its smooth pale face before handing it out to Gilbert, grinning.

"Present."

_Approximately eight years later…_

"Artie! Over here!"

Gilbert called out, waving frantically with a huge grin on his face. Arthur smiled and walked briskly over to the other teen, bumping fists eagerly. Even though it wasn't Arthur's standard greeting, Gilbert had loved it when he introduced him to it, and it was hard to refuse the elf when he was so keen.

"What did you bring me this time?" Gilbert asked, scarlet eyes glinting. He looked eagerly at Arthur.

"Wait and see." Arthur replied, smiling slightly as he pulled his bag off his shoulder and began to rummage through it. He took out a large pack of assorted chocolate bars and chucked it to the elf and continued to delve into his bag. Gilbert caught the treats and quickly unwrapped one, stuffing the human sweet into his mouth.

"The chocolates are for your birthday, I'm sorry I missed it, I was visiting my Dad. Seventeen now! You're old." Arthur exclaimed, eyebrows raised. His lips quirked as he successfully located his second gift.

Arthur brought out a Rubik's Cube, handing it his friend.

"It's a puzzle." He said. "You twist it until each face is a solid colour." Arthur explained.

Gilbert played around with the cube for a few seconds before he sneezed rather violently and apparently forgot about it, stuffing it into his own pouch.

"What about me?" Arthur asked frowning. Though he sounded hurt, Arthur was secretly rather please; his own human gifts often seemed rather inferior to Gilbert's own magical presents.

Gilbert grinned and tapped his nose. "That's for me to know and you to find out." He replied.

They left the edge of the woods and walked deeper into the darkness, Arthur following obediently even though he knew his way after so many years. The pair came to the river and crossed quickly, and Arthur felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as the sky turned once again to darkness and his feet touched the magical earth.

"What now?"

Gilbert didn't say anything but gave a small smirk and grabbed Arthur's arm.

"I'm gonna take you somewhere really special," Gilbert said, voice lowered, even though there was no one to hear them. "It only happens once a year, but we're gonna have to be careful not to get caught, 'k?" Arthur nodded and grinned. "Just remember the basic rules: don't eat any of our food, hold your breath when passing over or under something, keep your ears well hidden, don't let anyone touch or talk to you, and stay in my sight!"

"Yeah, Gil, I know, you've been telling me this since we were _nine-_"

"Just want to be safe."

The two continued going deeper into the inhuman world. Arthur was furthest than he had even been before from the river, and he could feel it. First, the air was pleasantly warm and silky on his skin, despite the fact that it was mid-winter back in his world, the magical forest that seemed so alive was thinning, and tiny electric currents hopped underneath his skin, electrifying all of his senses.

Eventually, Arthur began to hear other voices in the distance, and his heart started thudding.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see!"

They came to a huge clearing, glowing faintly from a distance, and the bustling sounds of the market could be heard easily, yet Arthur couldn't see anyone except an old man with a tiny cat and a cart filled with beautiful masks, and an ancient-looking stone arch, mysterious runes carved deeply into the dark, glowing rock. Gilbert approached the man and picked a mask from the wide variety, choosing a simple dark blue mask that covered and contrasted against his red eyes shockingly, its silver lining gleaming in the moonlight.

Arthur took more time, eventually choosing a tarnished silver mask, dark green patterns elaborately traced into its surface, swirling and twirling around the mask. Black accents touched at it, and Arthur's eyes looked as if they were glowing.

Gilbert thanked the old man, who nodded and smiled, passing over a few dully shining coins, before passing under the arch first, and the runes glowed briefly before fading as quickly as it had come. Arthur followed, sucking in his breath as he walked through and he was suddenly met with a huge festival. The immediate colours, sights, smells and sounds hit Arthur like a slap to the face, and he froze for a moment. Gilbert grinned back at his friend.

"Great, isn't it? Faery kind come from all over our world to take part in this festival."

Arthur stared ahead. Everyone wore amazing masks, some so extravagant and decorative that Arthur wondered how they remained on one's face. Music was playing from some unknown source, and the crowds were endlessly thick, swarming around stalls and small markets, with beautiful wares like instantly blooming roses, their large buds bursting and blooming into life within seconds, and impressive magic shows that Faery children crowded around eagerly. A colossal man took off his hat and a cloud of luminescent blue butterflies streamed from it, flying off and into the night. More practical goods were also sold, elixirs for sore throats and prank potions for causing the victim to grow twice his normal size. There was also multiple food stalls, but despite the delicious smells that wafted from them, Arthur managed to stay away.

Processions of singers toured the clearing, filling it with song, and the area was lit only by glowing orbs of light above them. People buzzed around the small space, filling the clearing with laughter. Arthur stayed close to Gilbert, eyes wide as he scanned his surroundings. A permanent smile was drawn over Gilbert's face as he watched Arthur's astounded expression.

"What is this?" Arthur asked, voice slightly husky.

"It doesn't really have a name. It's just a festival, and it happens once a year, on one night." Gilbert explained. "It's famous though. Hey, let's go see some of the acts."

He grabbed Arthur's arm and began to drag him towards a slightly elevated stage that looked more like it had been grown than built, and they stood among the crowd.

A huge ball of what appeared to be solid ice gleamed in the moonlight, when suddenly a crack pierced the air and sliced through the ball. Gasps filled the air. Suddenly, the amazing, glass-like object crumbled to pieces, revealing a tall elf that stood in the centre of the stage, his mask glittering in the light, looking as if it had been crudely carved out of a chunk of blue ice, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Illuminated violet eyes peered from behind the mask and the tips of his pointed ears poked from beneath his pale hair. A scarf that seemed to flow in the wind even though the air was still was wrapped around his neck, despite the fact that it was a relatively warm night, and a soft smile pulled his thin pale lips up in the corners.

"Comrades," He began gently. His voice was even more strangely accented than Gilbert's, and sounded a lot like Russian, though there were a few differences. "Thank you all for coming."

And with that he outstretched his arm and spread his gloved fingers, ice suddenly streaming from his fingers and swirling into a tiny blizzard that spread from his hand and into the air, snow fluttering down just above their heads. Arthur gasped as tiny flakes began to settle in his hair and he beamed at Gilbert. Excited mutterings sounded from the crowd.

The man on stage didn't drop his smile; instead he walked to the edge of the stage.

"I'll need a volunteer." He said calmly.

Arms shot up, along with eager cries, but Arthur only tried to look small. He couldn't risk being chosen and revealing himself. Gilbert hadn't told him what those in the Faery world thought of humans, but judging by their lack of contact, it probably wasn't good.

The man's eyes scanned the crowd and met Arthur's for a single, intense moment and what had been such a magical night was beginning to take a feeling of dread. Arthur shrank away.

"You." The man pointed to Arthur. "You're different. Come up."

Arthur felt Gilbert grab his wrist and with a painful tug, drag him away. Ignoring disappointed boos, the two walked swiftly away from the stage and further into the fair, into the huge army of stalls.

"God, that was close! I don't like coming here, but they won't find us. Bad luck that guy chose you, huh? I really wanted to see what he could do as well." Gilbert complained. He wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead and glanced back to Arthur, who was absentmindedly rubbing his wrist. "Oh, uh, did I hurt you? Sorry."

"It's fine." Arthur said abruptly, but he gave a small smile and looked around.

This part of the festival was much darker, lit only by flickering wax candles, and there were stalls and carts everywhere, creating narrow makeshift roads and turning the place into a maze-like market. There were far fewer people, it was quieter and beautiful objects littered table tops, fortune-tellers and magicians stalked around the gloomy area, but there were also stranger things, slightly frightening to Arthur though Gilbert seemed unaffected, though a little on edge. They passed a cage with a small creature trapped inside, long spindly limbs hanging uncomfortably between the bars and it watched the pair as the passed with large black eyes. Arthur looked to the left and saw a huge assortment of mirrors and looked into them. He stopped briefly and looked at them, but he didn't notice as Gilbert rushed on.

He turned to face the mirror completely and peered slightly closer. In it was his reflection, but simply that. The stalls behind him were replaced by darkness. Except for a dot, that was slowly expanding on the mirror's surface into a recognisable form, a person that made his blood run cold.

A beautiful, broken woman caressed his shocked stricken face, her pointed chin resting on his shoulder.

"M-mother?"

"Arthur, darling," The woman ran a hand through his hair. Arthur noticed how thin she was, weaker than he remembered. "You left me." Her voice was bitter.

Arthur felt himself freeze up, even though his mother continued to stroke his hair and even though he knew she wasn't really there, couldn't possibly be there, he could_ feel_ it.

"You know that I wasn't allowed to visit you-"

"Your brothers did."

"You _know_ why I couldn't!" Arthur cried, angrily. His eyebrows were knotted painfully. "I wanted to, it wasn't safe-"

There was a long, agonised scream and Arthur flinched and gave a short scream of his own as his mother's nails dug into his skin. He tried to rip her hands off but she was frantic.

"I'm your _mother_, I can keep you safe!" She shouted. Her green eyes darted madly around and her fingernails scraped along her son's cheeks. "You left me how could you do that to me your mother it hurt your own MOTHER-"

Arthur tore himself away, breath heavy as the vision disappeared and he span around, giving a sharp shout as he was met by a pair of glowing violet eyes.

"Is something wrong, comrade?" The man asked, still smiling and put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. But he no longer seemed friendly; there was something dark in his expression, and his smile was just plain scary.

Arthur shrugged it off, realising he had broken one of the first rules, and he looked slightly fearfully into the man's eyes. He knew.

"I-I've got to go." He stammered quickly but the man's smile just widened further and he grabbed Arthur's wrist in a cold, bone-crushing grip. "Let me go!"

The man didn't say anything, but his hold grew tighter and he simply stared into Arthur's eyes. Suddenly, the man's eyes flickered from his and looked over his shoulder, his thick fingers unwrapping themselves from Arthur's wrist, and he turned too, a wave of relief washing over him as he saw Gilbert. There was a miniscule flicker of annoyance over the man's face, before his lips were pulled into a grin again, and he whisked away, back into darkness.

Gilbert ran to his friend.

"Artie, you ok? What did that guy say to you? Damn, I shouldn't have brought you here-"

"I'm sorry Gil." Arthur said weakly, but he didn't look at the elf. "I broke a basic rule."

Gilbert frowned and noticed how pallid Arthur looked, and the long scratches down both of his cheeks. He grabbed his hand gently, and Arthur flushed slightly at the sudden contact, though Gilbert wasn't quite sure why, and he began to pull him back to the gateway and they passed under it, removing their masks.

There was a pause.

"…Did that guy do something, Arthur, you look pale. I shouldn't have brought you here."

Arthur shook his head. "No, he didn't do a thing. It was those mirrors…something was wrong with them. I saw my mother in them, Gil, I _spoke_ to her." The teen suddenly looked away, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He gave a reassuring smile but Gilbert could tell that he was upset. "Anyway, I'm going home. See you later, Gil."

Arthur turned and left.

**Author's note:** So yeah, time skip! Gilbert's just seventeen now, Arthur's sixteen but catching up. And Ivan's here!

Oh God, I haven't updated since May! Sorry for the wait :( I'm a bad, bad person. I don't really have an excuse, but it would've come sooner if my laptop hadn't broken in the summer. I got a new one though, so here you are! It's quite long.

Thank you to those who favourited or put me on alerts, you're all brilliant! Special mentions to Awesomeprussian, The Artist Formerly Known As, frozenpixie and Skadiyoko for the reviews. If I could send you cookies I would.

My cat just scratched my face T-T It hurts.

ANYWAY Gilbert Beilshmidt, Arthur Kirkland, Ivan Braginsky and Gilbird unfortunately don't belong to me.


End file.
